


halfway to the halfway house

by medlli



Series: thunderous flamenco [2]
Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Apologies, Canon Compliant, Complicated Relationships, F/M, Forgiveness, Frustration, Humor, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Stakeout, and ann is Just That Good at getting what she wants, anyway here's more rarepair hell, looks like ryuji's skilled in more than one type of running
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 16:01:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11512716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medlli/pseuds/medlli
Summary: We're only halfway to the loverwaiting.





	halfway to the halfway house

**Author's Note:**

> if you've read [submission](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11451192) see if you can find what it was that caused [keen ice](http://archiveofourown.org/series/765339) to update before _thunderous flamenco_ lmao
> 
>  **Akira in this fic:** [ _banging piano_ ] WHY DON'T YOU TALK TO EACH OTHER WHY DON'T YOU TALK TO EACH OTHER JUST GIVE IT A TRY

 

 

 

 

> ( _this is the ego shaking_ )

 

“‘I’ll explain everything the next time we see each other,’ he says as he avoids me entirely.”

A week had passed since the events at Shinjuku and she had yet to see even a hair of that idiot… except for the few strands she had found on her couch, anyway. It had begun to grate on her nerves; he even had the gall to ignore her texts! And anytime she appears in the group chat, he suddenly vanishes; his usual excuses ranged from gym workouts, to errands with his mom, to just plain falling asleep.

Believable the first few times, but now it just feels excessive.

“Am I gonna have to corner the guy just so we can talk about this?” She sighs as she flops onto her bed, eyes on the ceiling and arms splayed as she lied on her back. Who knew making a drunken faux pas and trying to repair it would be such an exhausting ordeal?

At the chime of her phone, Ann glances over at it before groaning, rolling over to her nightstand. Unlocking it, she skims the messages, realising the conversation had no relevancy to her; Akira, Yusuke, and Makoto had apparently been coordinating some small meetup.

‘ _Akira… He’s Ryuji’s closest friend… Maybe he can tell me what the hell is going on._ ’

 **Takamaki Ann [11:52]:** _Heading your way, Joker._

 

It takes her twenty minutes to arrive at Yongen-jaya, the way to Leblanc memorised like the back of her hand. The door jingles with her arrival, catching a look of light surprise that clears so quickly, she wonders if she may have imagined it. With just one blink, he’s suddenly smiling warmly at her.

She thinks she may have caught a flash of yellow as well, but she chalks it up to the glare reflecting off of the tables from the sunlight spilling in.

“Hey, Ann. Just made some curry. Want any?”

At the offer of food, a mental and physical reminder hits her: she hadn’t had breakfast this morning. Her only focus today had been getting answers, so much so that everything else had fallen to the wayside. A slight blush appears at the laugh Akira snorts when her stomach growls. “Curry sounds great.”

“Coming right up.”

She takes a seat at one of the booths, body slumping into the seat. She leans her head back and sighs rather exaggeratedly, catching the attention of the young barista. “Quite heavy. What’s up?” She sits properly in the seat before shaking her head, elbows now propped up on the table as the heels of both hands hold her chin. He joins her minutes later after plating her early lunch, setting it down in front of her before taking the seat across from the blonde.

That kind of response garners the start of his second job as the group counselor.

He need not speak a word for her to launch into her rant. “Can you believe this, Akira? A whole week, and Ryuji hasn’t talked to me even _once_ ! He won’t even text me back! What the hell is his _deal_!?” She scoffs in frustration before throwing her back against the seat. “Like, I know what happened is a total mess to deal with, but how can we fix it if we can’t even start talking?”

She catches the head of black turn to the kitchen for just a second, attention elsewhere for that moment in time. Before she can ask, he says, “Ah, sorry. Forgot if I… turned off the stove…”

“Do you need to get up and check?”

He pauses in his response, clearing his throat in a way that seems oddly out of place. “N-No. I’m sure I did.”

Her brow knits in confusion, but she presses on anyway. “What’s it gonna take for him to finally face me? He said we’d talk about it the next time we saw each other… Is that his way of saying he doesn’t want to? At least let me explain over the phone, if nothing else!” She throws her hands in the air, completely and utterly exasperated. “At this rate, I’ll have to stake out his house!”

Akira’s eyes flicker to the kitchen again; she isn’t sure whether she truly sees a smirk or not. “Do you want me to check it for you?”

His hand rises to his mouth, sounding off that strange throat clearing once again. “I got it.” He slides out of the booth, strolling into the kitchen and returning seconds later. “Looks like it was off after all. Where were we? Ah, right. The Chariot.”

“‘Chariot?’”

“Ryuji,” he supplies, his hand motioning for her to take the floor.

“I just don’t know anymore, Akira. Has he said anything to you about it? What do you think I should do?”

His head tilts so that he can stare at the ceiling, losing himself in thought. “You know,” he finally says, “I think you should do it. Start visiting his house.”

Both heads turn to the kitchen upon hearing an unusual thud, a harsher cough forcing itself from Akira’s throat this time. When they face each other again, it looks as though the barista is trying to suppress any more from leaving him. “Maybe you should make a run to the drug store,” she suggests with a considerate amount of concern.

“No. I’ll… I’ll be fine. Just a bit of a dry throat.”

Her brow creases with her skepticism, but she lets the matter go regardless. “Well, alright…” She shrugs and turns her attentions to the long-neglected food in front of her; she had chanced upon the perfect temperature, vocalizing a pleased hum. She sets the fork down to hold both cheeks, eyes closed in bliss. “Super great curry as always, Akira! You just might out-do Boss with this!”

“Heh, still not quite there yet, but thanks.”

They chat throughout the rest of her meal, the blonde departing half an hour later after paying (much to his reluctance). He sees Ann off until she disappears down the backstreets, bursting into laughter the second the door closes behind him.

And though the only audible noise of it are heavy gasps to refill his burning lungs, it’s still enough to catch Ryuji’s attention.

“What the hell was _that_ !?” his voice booms upon popping up from behind the counter. “ _Why would you tell her to visit me at home!?_ ”

“So do… you and Futaba… just… exchange hiding spot recs?” he wheezes out between breaths, having to use one hand to support himself against a table, the other clutching his stomach. The blond boy doesn’t get a reply for another minute or so. “You’re avoiding her, and unnecessarily at that. Really, it’s just the natural progression of things. You’re ignoring her over voice and through text on the phone, so now she’s gotta try and catch you in person.”

He returns to the booth where he and the only customer of the day had been sitting, smiling at the dour look Ryuji gives him once they sit across from each other. “Hit my head real hard on that counter,” the latter grumbles as he rubs the tender spot.

“Your head must be even harder if you didn’t crack it open. Then again, that’s probably why you’re so dense.” A set of paws trot down from the attic, his grand entrance complete once he sits atop the table. “Thanks for waking me up,” Morgana yawns, the sarcasm dripping in his voice.

“I don’t got time to argue with you right now, cat,” Ryuji snaps, glaring. “A petty argument with you is the last thing I need.”

Taken aback by the aggressiveness in his reply, the cat looks to Akira, a paw at his chest. “What’s gotten into _him_ ? He _always_ has time for petty arguments!”

The barista shrugs before providing an answer. “He’s stressed because I recommended that Ann visit him in person because he’s been ignoring her.”

“I ain’t ignorin’ her! I just… gotta figure out what to say to her.” His anger deflates instantly at the reminder, holding his face in his hands. “Why’s this stuff gotta be so complicated?”

“ _You’re_ ignoring Lady _Ann_? Shouldn’t that be the other way around?” Morgana stares at Ryuji in confusion before turning back to Akira for more answers.

“He slept with Ann while she was still drunk and feels guilty about it, which he should.”

“ _You shared a bed with Lady Ann that night!? I told you not to do anything funny with her!_ ”

“We didn’t just share a bed, you dumb cat! He means I had sex with her!”

The cafe falls eerily quiet at Ryuji’s outburst, but a sharp shriek is quick to clear the silence.

“ _You did_ **_what_ ** _!?_ ”

Akira’s hand flies out to catch the cat by the collar, tugging him back before cinching his arms around his stomach. “Let go of me! He deserves it for taking advantage of Lady Ann! And now he’s ignoring her like this is _her_ fault!? You should be beating him to a pulp with me!”

“Situation’s a bit more complex than that,” the head of black mutters, moreso to himself than anyone. He juggles the flailing Morgana into one arm as the other fishes for the phone in his pocket.

 **Kurusu Akira [13:17]:** _Pick up but dont speak_

 **Takamaki Ann [13:17]:** _???_

“Anything to say for yourself, Ryuji?” he baits as he looks back to his friend across the booth, though his thumb is preoccupied with dialing Ann; the long-learned skill found a use even now. “Morgana’s kinda difficult to hold like this. Might just let him go.”

Ryuji slumps in defeat, a fist coming down onto the surface. “Just… dammit! I meant it when I said I’m just tryin’ to figure out what to say to her! What can you even say in a situation like this? ‘I’m sorry I slept with you while you were drunk?’ I already look like an ass—”

“I’ll say,” a feline mumbles.

“—I don’t wanna make it worse. And I’ve liked her for so long, dude! But now I’ve gone and fucked it all up...”

“No, th-that… that was definitely Ann,” now the human mumbles.

“You say somethin’?”

He shakes his head, chin pointing back to the one in distress. He would have used his hand, but it’s a bit busy keeping the call connected, phone balancing on his thigh.

“I just don’t know what to do… What if she hates me for the rest of my life? Not that I’d blame her, but _god_ …! I don’t want her to hate me, Akira!” He folds his arms on the table before burying his head in the nook they make. “I know I should talk to her, but… I dunno if I could take it if she ended things ‘cause of this. I want her to forgive me, but I don’t got the right. Not after what I did.”

Akira’s look of sympathy at Ryuji shifts into a stare of stern expectancy at the feline, hesitantly releasing him. Morgana pouts, of course, but after hearing Ryuji’s woes, he acquiesces, knowing that he had already beat himself up enough over his mistake. “Well, if it’s Lady Ann… I think she’ll find it in her heart to forgive you.”

“Or find a suitable punishment for repentance.” The barista ends the call after his teasing line, laughing at the double look of horror he receives.

“But seriously,” Ryuji says once the moment clears, “you think Ann’ll really stake out my house?”

 

* * *

 

She does.

Her appearance the very next day at the mailboxes in front of his apartment blindsides him; he barely has enough time to duck behind the stairwell before she turns to look in the direction he had just stood in. “Hm, thought I heard something…”

She pulls out her phone from her pocket, head turning sharply when she hears a tone go off almost immediately after sending a text to the boy in question. Her eyes squint in suspicion, creeping toward the sound that cuts abruptly, shouting a “Ha!” when she pops out from the front of the stairwell.

Much to her chagrin, there’s no one to be found.

‘ _How can he still run so fast even with that damn injury?_ ’ Yeah, it had been a few years, but he still limps even now. She huffs, hands on her hips as she stomps once in irritation.

“Fine. Now you’ll see just how persistent I can be.”

 

 

 

Their game of Cat and Mouse lasts for the better half of two weeks; Ann appears on the days that she doesn’t have a modeling appointment. Throughout the trial, she continues to text Ryuji consistently, mildly relieved that there’s at least some progress with her endeavor, what with him finally beginning to text her back. However, he had leadened them with excuses every time she asked to meet up.

‘ _Don’t think I’ll stop just because you finally texted me back._ ’

She reaches the limit of her tolerance on the second day into the second week of this nonsense, marching straight to the door of his apartment unit. She sends no warning text like she used to when she was patrolling the mailboxes, knocking on the barrier between her and the solution to her problems.

When his mother answers, she has a smile and a bow at the ready. “Good afternoon, Sakamoto-san. May I come in? I’m here to see Ryuji.”

“A beautiful girl like _you_ , here to see _my_ son?” Her eyebrows lift, quite surprised. “Ah, are you that Ann he always talks about? Please, come in.” She steps out of the way, closing the door behind her son’s visitor. “Are you possibly that very same Ann from years ago that helped him pay for the way home after his field trip in middle school?”

It’s Ann’s turn to look surprised. “He told you about that?” she laughs, though it’s clearly out of nervousness, as she then rubs at the back of her head. “Yeah, that was me.”

His mother nods, a grin on her face. “I still have the trinket he gave me from that day. Thank you for helping him. I know he can be a bit much at times, but his heart is in the right place.” Turning toward the rest of the house, Miss Sakamoto then calls, “Ryuji! You have a guest!” Looking back to Ann, she nods once more before walking off to a different part of the unit.

“Who is it?” she hears Ryuji shout back, soft thudding and low grumbling following seconds after. “She always does that, never telling me who—”

He stops dead in his tracks, colour draining from his face when he spots just who has come to see him.

“Well, hello there, Sakamoto Ryuji,” she starts, arms folded under her breasts as she cocks her head to one side, hip to the other. “I think you and I have something to talk about?” Her eyes narrow and the irritation in her voice is clear; she’s pretty sure she can see beads of sweat start to form on his brow.

“U-uh, uh… d-do we?” he stammers, tongue heavy purely out of fear, taking a step back. He looks away, hands behind his head as he fails to look nonchalant about his current circumstance.

She takes a step forward. “We do.”

Another step back. “What, uh, what a-about?”

Another step forward. “Oh, I’m sure you know _exactly_ what about.”

He chances a peek at her, and when their eyes meet… he bolts.

“Oh, no! You are _not_ running away from me anymore, you bastard!”

She chases him to his bedroom, grinning triumphantly when he isn’t able to close his door in time, cornering him in what he incorrectly thinks will be his sanctuary. “Ha! Nowhere to run this time, Ryuji. Looks like it’s time you and I finally have that little chat.”

Ann is the one to close the door, a smug strut taking her across the room to the bed she decides to sit on. He instead opts for his desk chair; she doesn’t question his seating decision, though she _does_ question his action when he backs away to the farthest corner of the room.

“Guess there’s no point in tryin’ to run now, huh?” His exhale is heavy, making it obvious that all of this is entirely against his will. “I… I don’t really know where to start, or even what to say, but I guess I’ll… Look, I’m sorry. That was the first thing I said to you the mornin’ after, but I think I should say it in front o’ya, too. I’m so sorry for what I did, Ann.”

Invested in whatever else he’s about to say, Ann leans forward, elbow to her knee to prop her chin in her palm as she stares, listening closely.

“Honestly, if you decided right now that you want to kick my ass for that—and everything I’ve been doing since then—I wouldn’t even try to stop you. I’d deserve it, and if everyone else knew about what happened, I’m sure they would too. I mean… what kind of shitty douchebag sleeps with a girl when she’s drunk? Even with… what you were doing, I still shoulda stopped you. It was my _responsibility_ to stop you as the one who _wasn’t_ drunk, but instead I go’n take advantage of the situation instead.”

He leans forward as well, hand holding his forehead before it slides back to card through his hair. His hands clasp together in front of him afterward. “God, after what I did, how could I think I’m any better than scum like Kamoshida?” He takes a deep breath, eyes closed as his body rises, reopening them once he sits up in the chair again, the most pitiful look on his face as he returns her stare. “You… If you don’t forgive me, I understand. I don’t want our friendship to end, but I don’t got the right to want that after I royally fucked up. N’me avoidin’ you for so long only makes that worse. But whatever you wanna do, I want you to know that I’m sorry from the bottom of my heart, and that I’ll completely respect anything you decide to do.”

The room is still for some time, he because his monologue had ended, she because she needs to process all of what had been said. At last, she sighs, walking to the chair and reaching for his hand. With one between both of hers, she tugs lightly until he stands, leading him to the bed and sitting, the boy mimicking her.

“Ryuji… you’ve beat yourself up over this the whole time, huh?” Her hold on his hand stays firm. “I’m glad I cornered you so you could stop. I appreciate that you realise my consent would have been dubious at best in any other circumstance, but I wanted to let you know that it’s fine. The only thing I’m actually mad at you about is how long it took for us to finally have this talk, _especially_ after you said we’d talk about this once we saw each other again. What, were you just planning on avoiding me for the rest of your life?”

She gives him a look when his free hand rubs the back of his neck, as though he’d actually entertained the idea. “Well, that wasn’t gonna happen. If I didn’t corner you myself, everyone else would've helped me.” She snorts when his face makes it apparent that he hadn’t considered that. “You idiot,” she laughs while looking down at their hands, the one on top giving his a soft squeeze. “And just in case I didn't make it obvious enough for you, I forgive you for what happened. I’m okay with what we did… More than okay.”

Her head lifts then, locking her eyes with his, both parties holding fast. For a moment, a weight settles in the air, one she hopes is obvious enough for him to read.

Unfortunately, he misinterprets the mood, thinking he probably conjured it up in his head; the moment she shifts ever so slightly closer, the weight lifts jarringly, Ryuji (not-so-) subtly sliding his hand out from in between hers. “Th-That’s, uh… that’s good. I was real worried you’d kick my ass.” He no longer faces her, getting to his feet and threading his fingers together behind his head. “Glad that’s all over. Anyway, since you’re here, we can, uh… hang out, if you want. I know it’s kind of a trip to come out here, so…”

He risks a glance over his shoulder, watching her get to her feet. “Sure!” She looks around his room for a moment with interest before he spots a deviousness about her.

‘ _Oh, no._ ’

“So this is your room, huh?” She shuffles casually to his closet, the boy following after with wariness in his head and dread in his stomach. “Got any… _magazines_ you’re hiding in here?” She flashes a smile brimming with mischief before she bounds to the closet doors.

“Hey! Don’t you got anythin’ better to do than go through my stuff!?”

Maybe suggesting hanging out here hadn’t been the best of ideas.

 

* * *

 

Ann stays until the sun is ready to disappear into the horizon, graciously accepting the dinner his mother prepares for the three of them. After four hours with him, she says her “Good night,” Ryuji seeing her off with a wave. She senses that he watches after her longer than what would probably be appropriate for friends, a humoured huff pushing through her nose when he catches her glimpse back and scrambles to close the door.

At the mailboxes, out of his possible field of view, she sighs, elbow propped in one hand as the other presses a fist to her temple. Her eyes close, mouth muttering, “God, Ryuji. Just how dense can you be?”

Looks like she’d have to spell it out for him, letter by letter.

**Author's Note:**

> one more fic until the end of this series
> 
>  
> 
> [personal twitter](http://www.twitter.com/lesimperatrices)  
> 


End file.
